for what it’s worth I stuff MCs under the Earth / laid to rest, cut off their effin’ heads, stick ‘em with bayonettes / rememberance forgotten, limericks get auctioned / Timberlands kick notches like La Maz octaves, dick goes in ‘n’ stickout tha crotches / throw you Franky Ocean homos out tha closet / straight semi-automatics shot you homo-autoerotics / I go around with as many as Octomom’s kids with me / still sniffing, still sportin Dickies, still sippin’ quartsa Mickey’s n givin bitches’ titties hickies / I throw hissy-fits, refrain from swine n crustaceans, read Leviticus 11 / Ecclesiasticus, honor tha Sabbath on tha day of Saturn, this is Hip Hop, check out tha placards…
Any errors in Twisted's lyrics are solely that of typist & not in any way reflective of Twist's original handwritten work. Twist reviews typewritten work sent him by snail mail, any needed corrections are made & returned via snail mail from Twist who is in belly of beast.
Twisted Science's incarcerated dart slangin'
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